Te Osculari Volo
by Child of Loki
Summary: What exactly did Nell write on Callen's post-it note? (Episode tag 5x23) (Nell/Callen)
**Disclaimer: I don't own** _ **NCIS Los Angeles**_ **or its characters…**

 **Author's Note: Someone requested my version of what might be on the post-it note Nell left for Callen in 5x23** _ **Exposure.**_ **It was lovely going back to watch what used to be my favorite TV show. I might have to rewatch more, since I've lost all interest in the new season(s).**

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Nell took another swig of her beer as her nerves flared up. Because _he_ had slid into the booth across from her, was probably studying her with those bright blue eyes of his (if she cared to look up and be captured by that gaze). But she just _couldn't_ fall into that trap. Especially not knowing what lay at the bottom.

But she'd set it herself hadn't she? Idiot.

"So, someone left us love notes today." His voice was smooth and calm with just a hint of amusement. So very G Callen that it would've been a comfort if she wasn't suffering from a serious case of regret and embarrassment.

Her mouth suddenly felt dry. She took another swig of beer, slowly swallowing, trying to figure out how she wanted to play this. She'd been trying to figure out how to play this since she and Eric had descended the stairs, coming upon the scene of the agents reading the little yellow post-its she'd left for them. And she'd known she'd gone too far... with _him_.

She should've kept it simple, like the others. But she hadn't. For whatever reason had possessed her, she couldn't recall it now, she hadn't left him a simple friendly note about how much she admired him, valued his friendship.

Instead, she'd jeopardized that friendship. Had she made it unforgivably awkward? Would he stop coming around, hanging out with her? Just keep it professional from now on? Call off the bizarre little book club they'd started, just the two insomniacs swapping all varieties of reading material from technical manuals to comic books to 17th century French poetry?

Maybe they could just pretend she hadn't done something so incredibly stupid. Maybe they could still have movie nights and practice runs at clandestine operations. Maybe he would still be willing to train her in hand-to-hand combat, despite the close proximity it required, their bodies often winding tangled up on the mats. Even knowing how she felt... Maybe he could pretend not to know.

"Oh, really? Love notes?" She set her beer down, gave her friend a 'bored' look. Oh, she knew she couldn't out maneuver the master. Hell, he'd taught her nearly as much as Hetty had about undercover work, being a spy, how to effectively hide one's emotions. But maybe he'd get the hint that she wanted to drop it. (Take it back.)

"Yeah... My Latin's a little rusty but..." he slipped out of his side of the booth and slid in beside her nudging her over a little with his thigh pressing against hers, one arm snaking behind her on the vinyl seat. _Oh, hell. The_ heat _of him_. She closed her eyes, wanting to escape, knowing she'd never escape how he made her feel, just by standing or sitting close, just by looking at her with those blue eyes -and _damn_ she made the mistake of meeting that unwaveringly intense gaze of his. He caught her, his hand on her \cheek before she could turn away, and then he was leaning in and - _oh, god_ \- touching his lips to hers.

The kiss was so entirely G Callen, that she knew it wasn't a game, a joke. At first it was respectful, gentle, shy even... As if he was afraid of what her response would be, of rejection, of being hurt. And then when she responded, parting her lips over his, teasing his lower lip with her tongue, reaching for him with her hands on his neck and back, pulling him closer, he was all unreserved passion.

God, no one had _ever_ kissed her like that. Well, technically, she supposed she'd been kissed in a similar manner before. Kisses were all just variations on the same basic components but -oh, god, yes... It felt different than any other kiss she'd ever experienced. Something about the way he kissed her… It was as if he thought she were the only woman in the world _worth_ kissing.

He tasted like beer and surprisingly had a sweetness to him, which tantalized her into exploring the entirety of his mouth with her tongue. He moaned, the fingers of one hand digging into her scalp and the other gripping her waist so hard she'd probably have bruises. And didn't care.

And then he was pulling away slightly, breaking the kiss off, which disappointed her until she realized she was as desperate for air as he seemed to be, panting and grinning at her, his blue eyes twinkling playfully.

"Hope I translated it correctly," he said.

Fireworks were still sort of exploding in her brain and all she could do was blink at him. As much as she hated that the effect he had on her was so obvious, there wasn't much she could do about it. And she liked the way he patiently waited for her to recover her wits, stroking her bicep, watching her with his clever blue eyes.

She thought it was primarily shock that had fried her brain (okay, mainly that kiss. But also the shock of it). Because while they got along extremely well, she'd never thought he could ever feel the same way about her. Her ever-increasing attraction to the man just had to be one-sided.

Only it hadn't been, _wasn't_. The way he was looking at her, sitting so close to her without a hint of discomfort, touching her. The way he'd _kissed_ her. She must have known it subconsciously, to write him that ridiculously forward note. Which he had translated impeccably. Apparently. Although...

"I don't know," she said, finally regaining her composure, meeting his gaze with a newfound confidence. "Could've been a fluke. You'd better demonstrate again."

He grinned. It was that genuine smile of his that lit up his entire person. And then he was leaning in to kiss her once more. Even more intensely, if that was somehow possible. Nell vaguely thought how it was probably bordering on in decent for the public bar. But at least the rest of the team had already gone home for the night. And then, she wasn't thinking much of anything, just reveling in the embrace of G Callen as her world shifted.

A post-it note could change the world. Go figure.

 _Te osculari volo._

I want to kiss you.

END

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 **A/N: That was a fun little diversion. I really should get back to my other incomplete Nallen fics… Sigh. I did love writing them so.**


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